


to a brave man's eyes

by random_chick



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_chick/pseuds/random_chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons never imagined her undercover assignment could go so wrong. And she certainly never imagined she would be rescued by the man formerly known as the Winter Soldier.</p>
<p>Bucky Barnes never imagined he would be called upon to rescue someone from HYDRA's clutches. And he certainly never imagined it would be someone like Jemma.</p>
<p>But it had and she was, he had been and it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to a brave man's eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3236027) piece of art for the mcu_reversebang on LJ.

Bucky Barnes had never been much of a conversationalist. Well, that wasn’t _entirely_ true. He had been quite the chatty sort before his time as the Winter Soldier, before his life had been taken over and destroyed. Ever since then, ever since he’d broken free of the brainwashing, of the training, he’d been quiet and reserved.

He was grateful that nobody ever pushed him to talk. Well, Steve occasionally pushed, but this was Steve. He never pushed more than he thought he could safely get away with. And Bucky appreciated that. He also tolerated it from Steve more than he tolerated it from any of the others simply because of the fact that so long ago they had been best friends.

Not that they weren’t still best friends, but there was something in the longevity of the bond that gave Steve certain rights that the others didn’t have. Though Natasha Romanoff took the liberties she wanted to take, and other people’s opinions be damned, Bucky noted with a faint smile. She had the right to do so in this case, he supposed, given the fact that as the Winter Soldier, he’d had a run in with her.

It was remarkable to Bucky that she wanted to associate with him, much less _work_ with him, given their past. But if anyone could understand needing a second chance, wanting a second chance, it was Natasha.

They’d all had some downtime coming, and then everything had gone to hell and now half of them were fugitives and they had Barnes on the crumbled team, rescued and deprogrammed. But that whole being on the run thing was nothing new to Bucky, so he just found a way to make it to Stark Tower and answer the summons he’d been issued.

Only to discover that Stark hadn’t issued it, that none of the team had issued it. Their reactions were varying, ranging from concerned -- Bruce -- to outright pissed off. That one was Stark, of course.

“Something’s wrong,” Natasha said. “Someone’s planning something and I don’t like it one bit. It’s just an excuse to get us all into one place at the same time and pick us all off one by one.”

“It’s entirely possible,” Bruce said, looking troubled. “In which case, we should all leave now.”

“But whoever called us all here, now they know we’re here,” was Clint’s contribution. “So it would be nothing for them to follow us and take us out anyway. We’re stuck here.”

“At least the security’s good,” Bucky said dryly.

“Good?” Tony looked affronted. “It’s Stark Tower. The security is more than good, it’s freakin’ fantastic.”

Bucky had to admit when Tony had a point.

Before a squabble could begin, JARVIS cut in. “Sir, you have a guest.”

“A guest?” Tony frowned. “Who is it?”

“Agent Phil Coulson,” came the reply.

The room erupted into chaos.

“Not possible!” Clint yelped. “Not fucking possible!”

“What are we going to do?” Bucky asked curiously, fighting down his Winter Soldier instincts -- these were his people, after all, and he would do anything to protect them.

“Whoever it is, we’re letting him up here,” Tony said. “And if it’s just some cruel joke… we’ll make them pay.” He had some… issues surrounding the fact that Coulson was dead. He especially of them all did not appreciate this joke. And it had to be a joke. What _else_ could it be? A HYDRA joke.

“Let him up, JARVIS,” Tony said after another moment, with wariness etched on his features.

And that would be how Phil Coulson came to be greeted with the sight of more than one gun pointed at him. Not entirely surprising. Okay, not surprising at _all_.

“Okay, now I know you’re all a little pissed off at me for the being dead thing, but really?” He arched an eyebrow. “Planning to shoot me is a bit much.”

“How do you know they’re not just acting like they will?” Tony interjected curiously.

“Because it’s Clint and Natasha,” came the reply. “I’d be rather disappointed if they were just pretending.”

That got a short, sharp laugh from Natasha, who by that point was lowering her gun.

“You’re going to explain this to us, Phil,” she said. “The entire damn thing, however long it is.”

Coulson sighed. “Fine. I will. But _after_ I tell you what I’m here for and _after_ you help me with it.”

“How do you know we’ll want to help?” Bruce asked, even as the curiosity in his voice rose.

“Because I know you,” Coulson said. “The lot of you. You’re good people.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but good has never been one of them,” Natasha said. “But I get your meaning. Whatever it is, whatever you’ve got to tell us…”

“... is going to reunite the Avengers.”

 

There was a solid ten minutes of various members of the team yelling at Coulson for one aspect or another of his death before they pulled themselves together and got down to business. All things considered, Coulson would’ve given them another half hour.

But not much more, because a member of his team was in danger.

They congregated around a conference table in one of the lower levels of the Tower, a surefire sign that something was wrong -- Tony had expected that one of the relaxation lounges would’ve done just fine. That they were at a conference table spoke to the fact that this was serious, even more serious than Coulson generally was.

And Tony could sense an entirely new seriousness to the man that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t sure what was behind it, but he knew he didn’t like it. Phil Coulson wasn’t supposed to be this serious.

“Okay, so.” Tony kicked his feet up on top of the conference table. “Talk to us, Phil. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that one of my people is missing,” Phil said. “Dr. Jemma Simmons, the biochem expert.”

“I’ve heard of her,” Tony said.

“You have?”

“Well, yeah,” Tony said. “She’s attached at the hip to Leo Fitz and I’ve been watching him for the past few years.” If there was one thing Tony seriously prized, it was brilliance in others. And brilliance that matched -- probably surpassed -- his own? Even better. “Very nearly tried to recruit him.”

Coulson shook his head. “Okay, then, moving on. The point is, Jemma is missing and we need to find her.”

“Why is she missing?” Bucky asked, leaning forward curiously. “What did you have her doing that she would come up missing?”

Coulson liked Barnes, he really did. But he was _too_ sharp, _too_ perceptive, and he didn’t need someone like that questioning him.

He _did_ , however, need the man on the team who went in to rescue Jemma.

“I have an agent on the inside who’ll help us,” Coulson said. “Bobbi Morse.”

“Mockingbird,” Clint said with a groan. “Oh, please, don’t pick me for this. She’ll make my life a living hell. What?” he said at everyone’s looks. “We have a past.”

Bobbi had a past with several people, it would seem, judging by what Coulson knew of her and her ex-husband, and now her and Clint.

“I don’t care about that,” Coulson said. “You are going to go in there and you are going to do the job I need you to do and you will _not_ complain about it. Do you understand me?”

Clint looked at Coulson, taken aback. “Yes, sir.” Because he wasn’t going to argue with this new, not necessarily improved, version of Agent Coulson. Not right now, anyway. Not when a member of the man’s team was missing.

“What is Dr. Simmons on the inside of?” Bruce asked.

“HYDRA.”

That would be the group collectively staring at Coulson as though he’d lost his mind.

“You sent someone to infiltrate HYDRA?” Natasha yelped. “Coulson, are you insane?”

“I have my reasons,” Coulson said stiffly. “I’ll explain later. Right now, I need a couple of you to come with me. The more people who know what they’re doing that I have on this mission, the better Jemma’s odds are of coming out of this alive.”

“Who do you need?” Natasha asked.

“Ideally? You, Clint, and Barnes.” There was no mistaking the unease in Coulson’s voice. Because as much as he liked Barnes, the idea of taking the former Winter Soldier into any dangerous situation was a little frightening. Never mind that Barnes had been broken of the brainwashing, he still had the training, and that made him dangerous.

But maybe they needed a little danger, someone who was willing to take those risks. Between the three of them, and his own team, maybe they could make this work.

 

Going in involved breaking in, rather than fake IDs or anything of the sort. Coulson had made the call based on the fact that this was a HYDRA facility and no matter how they looked at it, Jemma’s cover had likely already been blown. Going in required their equivalent of brute force.

Well, alright, it required sneaking in through a back door, of all things, thanks to Bobbi’s directions and Natasha’s ability to distract -- read: beat the crap out of -- the security guards at the door.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Bobbi said as she led the three of them down a hall. “Natasha, Clint, the two of you are going to be our backup -- Barnes and I are going for Jemma. I know where she’s being held, but I can’t get there myself alone or even with Barnes’ help. So the two of you are going to take out as many people as you can while we make a run for it.”

It wasn’t the best plan Bobbi had ever come up with, not by a long shot, but it was all they had. Because Whitehall had Jemma and that? Didn’t mean anything even remotely close to good.

They moved quickly, following Bobbi to an elevator. One swift blow from Natasha took down the guard at the elevator; Bobbi swiped the guard’s keycard and pocketed it. Her access codes could get them into a good portion of the massive facility, but having the guard’s could only help them.

“Hey,” Bucky hissed, instincts kicking in. “Keycard. Now. Clint, Natasha, backup. Bobbi, show me where Dr. Simmons is. I’ll take it from there and get her out of here.”

“Why you?” Natasha asked, even as she was sure she knew the answer.

“Because I was the Winter Soldier,” Bucky said simply. “That will command a certain level of respect amongst the low-level HYDRA grunts we’re sure to find here. It won’t make anyone help us, but it will confuse people long enough for us to do what we need to do.”

He hoped.

 

Jemma couldn’t believe how wrong everything had gone, how unbelievably wrong. She’d been caught _days_ ago, caught and thrown in a cell. Which she supposed was somehow better than being strapped to a table with Whitehall doing God only knew what to her.

But it also meant that she was free to imagine all the things that Whitehall might do to her when he tired of letting her sit and dwell. And she knew who Whitehall was, what he’d done to others. And he could dismember and disembowel her with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step.

He _would_ , more to the point. Which meant that Jemma Simmons only had so much time left on this planet.

Time that she was firmly determined to use to her advantage. She moved around the cell, exploring every single inch of it. She didn’t have anything on her she could use to make an escape -- they’d taken it all off her at Whitehall’s direction before throwing her in -- but she was creative. And Fitz was her best friend, had taught her so much. She had no doubt she could engineer something to escape with given enough raw materials.

Except there was nothing. Nothing whatsoever that she could use.

Not for the first time did she feel despair.

 

Bucky moved down the hallway with a cold efficiency; he was following Agent Morse, yes, but he had taken out more than a handful of HYDRA agents himself -- some of them probably fatally, not that he would mourn them. They were collateral damage, casualties in a war they’d maybe unknowingly signed on for. His capacity for regret had been taken away during the torture and training and discipline he’d gone through to become what -- and who -- he’d become.

“She’s down that hallway,” Bobbi said, pointing. It was a hallway with several doors on either side and a door at the end. “Go. Be quick.”

Bucky didn’t even dignify that with a response, he just moved down the hallway as fast as he could. There were windows because of course there were, Whitehall would want to see his victims’ terror just before he came for them. But it was thanks to those windows that he was able to find Jemma. And of _course_ she was in the very last cell because nothing about this could be easy, could it? She had to be in the one that gave them the most distance from the anxiously waiting Bobbi at the far end.

He swiped the card through the reader and yanked open the door. The woman in the room jumped, whirled around, backed into a corner.

“We don’t have time for you to be scared, Dr. Simmons,” Bucky said crisply. “I need you to come with me.”

All Jemma could do was stare.

 

She hadn’t been expecting anyone to come for her for a couple days yet, and she certainly hadn’t expected a _rescue_.

And she _especially_ certainly hadn’t expected to be rescued by Bucky Barnes. How was that even possible? There was obviously an explanation but she was _positive_ it was above her security level.

Bucky sighed; he could see the confusion on her face. “Was the Winter Soldier, now I’m not. Newest Avenger, not that we’re really a team anymore. Now for the love of everything holy and snuggly, could you please get moving before they call Whitehall himself down here to investigate?”

The fear of Whitehall got Jemma moving, scrambling out of the corner and out the door.

Bucky followed Jemma down the hall, meeting up with Bobbi.

“Agent Morse, hello,” Jemma greeted breathlessly, British politeness kicking in even in the face of absolute danger.

“Just Bobbi,” came the terse reply. “Now let’s get back to the others and get out of here.”

“The others?”

“Romanoff and Barton.” Again, terse reply. “Now, let’s go.”

They went.

 

Getting Jemma to safety had been about as hard as the team had expected, which was to say full of danger and Bucky adding more red to his ledger. Natasha had tried protesting, but when it was shoot or be shot, there wasn’t much room for conversation.

As soon as they had Jemma out of the building and were on the way back to where they could safely board the Bus, Jemma collapsed in an unconscious heap in the nearest seat.

Bucky took a seat next to Jemma, an almost protective look on his face. At the same time, he wore the Winter Soldier’s cold, calculating expression. Getting Jemma to safety had brought out his protective instincts in full force. There was just something about her that made him want to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t going to question it. Not now, not when they had much more important things to worry about.

“She’ll be okay,” Natasha said, casually observing Jemma and Bucky, the way Jemma had collapsed against Bucky and was using him as a pillow. “From what I know, Jemma Simmons is a fighter. She’ll be fine. It’ll take her some time, but she’ll be alright.”

Bucky nodded and shifted slightly, trying to get a bit more comfortable without disturbing Jemma. He needn’t have worried, though; Jemma was out cold, exhausted beyond exhaustion. It was a miracle she’d survived, honestly; he was pretty sure she hadn’t slept in days. He didn’t blame her for that one, honestly. Who would want to sleep knowing that Whitehall or his men could come for them at any moment?

“I just hope this doesn’t have too much of a lasting effect on her,” Bucky said finally. “It’s going to be hard enough dealing with the fact that it happened, she doesn’t need emotional trauma on top of it.” But he knew there would be, there always was, when HYDRA got their claws into you.

He glance down at the sleeping woman and a faint smile crossed his lips. She was smart and beautiful and resourceful and --

What was he doing, thinking about her that way? Or any way at all, honestly. He had no right. He had too much red in his ledger to ever deserve a woman like Jemma Simmons.

He glanced up, looked at Natasha, and knew that his face was an open book. He glanced away and when he glanced back a moment later, his face was the Winter Soldier’s impassive mask.

He’d just have to stop thinking about Jemma, was all.

 

Natasha sighed, watching Bucky. He’d retreated to his Winter Soldier default, proof that while they’d gotten him deprogrammed, there were still bits and traits so firmly buried within him that they would never get them all out. He was no longer the Winter Soldier, true, but neither was he Bucky Barnes. Not _really_. He was a hybrid of the two, and Natasha was pretty sure that was the most dangerous part of things.

And she knew firsthand what the Winter Soldier was capable of. What Bucky Barnes was capable of, though, she wasn’t quite as sure. But in the name of protecting what was his? She didn’t know whose training he would fall back on, and that frightened her more than anything -- and little frightened Natasha Romanoff.

She glanced at Bucky and Jemma, and smiled to herself almost imperceptibly. Whether he knew it or not, he’d already made a claim on the woman. And Jemma was the sort of woman who could make him a better person.

Natasha just hoped it would all work out in the end.


End file.
